Clarity
by VixenVampirechick
Summary: Ten times Cheetara wasn't clearer with her feelings and the one time she was...
1. HelloGoodbye

_**Clarity**_

"_Maybe next time I can bail you out of trouble."_

She creeps carefully down from her lookout point soon after Lion-O finds his way from the back alley of the slums and into the city streets.

He would likely be safe enough to make the long trek back into the palace with no other trouble. Which meant it was time for her to make a hasty bid for the palace as well.

The cheetah starts to run an old familiar route out of the slums where she is less likely to run face first into any unsuspecting cats; she still slows to a jog just in case. It takes less than a minute before she is at the cleric's quarters slipping into her hood and garb and standing with the others who remain unmoving at the throne room's great doors.

Her late arrival is to be expected in turn with the young lord's as today it is her turn to provide protection for the youngest prince, a prince she is finding to be much less likely to stay put than Prince Tygra.

She receives the sword before taking her place in the front and remaining as still as stone with them.

Cheetara allows her eyes to drift closed, sensing the raw power of the sword, coming off the weapon in waves and she isn't just impressed by it but awed and honored to even be holding the sacred blade.

Their peaceful meditation is over all too quickly and they are moving silently into the throne room where their king awaits with each son. She glides along stepping forward when all others have stopped.

Lion-O looks ruffled but determined, jaw set in a serious line standing at the precipice next to Tygra.

The tiger catches her eye for a moment and recognition flickers within them before he gives her a little wink. Lion-O looks positively scandalized at his brother's actions Cheetara does her best to feign apathy. Now was not the time to indulge in Tygra's playful antics.

Not many cats would dare such a thing at a royal ceremony at that but Tygra is definitely not other cats and she gives no indication having seen or heard anything at all.

She takes her place amongst the others to bear witness to the ceremony that is over all too quickly and ends in the king's disappointment.

The young heir looks completely dejected at the king's scolding and she feels her frown deepen in sympathy.

She's positive that the young king is withholding something, but for what and why she doesn't know and cannot ponder for long as Jaga is leading them from the room.

The lion notices not her passing eye upon him too trapped in his own inner secrets. Her eye then catches the other prince in the room and he is already looking her direction and she wonders how long he's been watching her.

She holds his gaze for but a few seconds a time span so small it would easily go unnoticed by anyone.

It is a common game for them in their passing, a silent hello and a silent goodbye, it is all either can allow.


	2. Troubled

Troubled

"_It's just like I said there is something different about you."_

Lion-O looks surprised to see her standing there and even glad for it and she can't help but return her own playful look at his.

She's just glad to see him smiling. The young lion is often alone and wandering about to indulge in his own world and even when together with his small patriarch family he seems greatly separate.

He's…strange. So bright and optimist, a peculiarity amongst warriors who were hardened realists and she respects him all the more for it.

"Is that why you keep following me?" he teases his blue eyes sparkling.

"Maybe…" she humors.

And she springs away dropping gracefully down to the city wall ready to retire for the night after making one more stop.

She inhales through her nose and sure enough she hadn't been imagining it, she knows his scent well.

Tygra had passed through the street shortly. He had disappeared so quickly after the street fight she hadn't had the chance to make sure the eldest prince was unharmed as well.

The cheetah had no doubt he could take care of himself, she's seen him fight and he'd always managed to land on his feet in whatever kind of trouble he got into and it didn't happen a fraction as often as she'd guess it should. The tiger prince's tongue was as smooth as it was sharp, often able to avoid trouble with a few choice words.

Still the spotted cat finds herself tracking his scent as his tracks are non-existent even in the dirt paths. He'd always been a stealthy cat with or without his invisibility and she usually grateful for the challenge of hide and seek to break the monotony of guard duty.

But not tonight, it was far too late for that game tonight. She'd be expected back at the temple before long.

She stands at the palace wall that leads to the garden, the light night breeze confirming Tygra had just passed through, already within the safety of the palace.

There really isn't any need for her to go any further.

Still…

She crouches before she springs, catching the corner of an unlit torch block before swinging herself feet first up and over onto a low hanging garden wall before slinking down into a thicket of tea roses.

She waits.

His shadow falls over her and passed her in moments.

He walks, no, more like _stalks _around the garden fountain in clear agitation, whip still clenched tightly in his hand. He's built himself a cage of frustration and irritability and once again he is a prisoner of it.

She sees him like this too often. Restless and wild.

His whip lashes out slicing through the night air before cracking against the stone path. The tiger smoothly draws back the weapon in a long high arc before rounding it forward once more this time to an apple tree. A large red fruit falls lanced neatly in half.

The prince pays it no mind before striking again and again.

She isn't sure how many apples suffer Tygra's frustrations before she decides she's coming out from her hiding place.

"A shame to let all of our fruit be wasted on your whip practice."

The cleric snaps her eyes up to the massive lion approaching his son, who is clearly as caught off guard as Cheetara. She ducks into her hiding place even lower berating herself for being so oblivious to the king's heavy footfalls.

It wouldn't do for her king to see her sneaking about the garden; she suspected all sorts of

questions would arise with the added equation of the very late evening. She's trusted and thought of highly by Jaga and Prince Tygra by their Lord Claudus but though neither ruler have said a word she senses Jaga has not missed her interest in the oldest Prince.

She wonders if Jaga would think her interest a distraction and perhaps feel her not capable of separating her emotions from her duties.

She's not brave enough to find out.

Tygra is quick to straighten and give a respectful bow at the approaching ruler.

"Father."

King Claudis simply places a hand on Tygra's shoulder and a small measure of tension seems to leave him.

"You're frustrations may be better worked out within the war room."

She can almost feel the tiger's embarrassment at having been caught in such a wild state, though he's far from cowed by it. But the king does not seem angry merely suggesting.

"My apologizes Father, it will not happen again," Tygra vows once he finds his voice.

The cat moves to slink past the king but Lord Claudius has not released him.

In the moonlight even from the distance she sees Tygra's eyes glitter gold and hard with some inner storm of emotions he seems to be doing his best to conceal and failing.

"They are only trees but you are my son and I do not believe I have ever seen you this troubled before."

"It's nothing."

She feels like an intruder suddenly watching both father and son, Tygra no small cat positively dwarfed by the massive king.

"Speak your mind."

The king's simple words are patient but firm

"It's just those lizards and letting them go seems like a mistake."

King Claudius makes no reply but his own stern blue eyes give way to his concurrence.

Tygra squares his jaw and continues seeing that his words have the desired effect. "Our forgiveness and mercy will not stay the hand of any lizard from slaughtering any cat ever. Likely hasten it if anything. If he spent more time defending our city and less time daydreaming he'd know they can't be trusted or granted mercy ever." He's practically spitting in anger now. "He'd outstretch a claw to them before one of our own."

King Claudius make a word of agreement to Tygra's fears and he doesn't have to she can feel his own unease at the decision. Such a small thing that would not have been much of a concern some months ago but things were changing.

The lizards had grown bolder and bolder, each assault on their gates larger than previous ones and more daring. The clerics themselves were having some difficulty keeping up with the number of attacks on the city. Protecting the tiger prince, the heir and king first and foremost was difficult enough in a massive attack when a swarm could cause a scatter of the royal family, keeping the casualties of cats down was also a priority that the clerics excelled in.

Battles however timelessly won were not _completely_ without their casualties.

And she too had to wonder if such actions as tonight's would damn them in the future.

_No good deed goes unpunished_…

"He made a judgment he thought best for the future of our kingdom. A judgment he wasn't swayed in an opinion on."

Tygra means to quiet with the simple answer. Even behind the disapproval of the decision Tygra can detect some small measure of pride in his father's tone.

"Is it a good one though?" Tygra finds himself asking.

"Wise or not the fate of every Thunderian may someday rest in Lion-O's sole convictions he must be powerful in, whether in agreement or not this we must honor Tygra."

The king is walking away with only this before Tygra's next words cause him to stop.

"The 8th and 14th brigade you sent scouting the cliffs, their absence has created a widening hole in our defenses that would be all too obvious to even simpletons from the viewpoint of the city square."

King Claudus turns slowly, curiously with a raised brow. Both the king and the cleric were suddenly aware of Tygra's grave insight without the tiger needing to say another word.

Her stomach knots in recalling the reptile's recent invasion only a month ago. The lizards' attack had failed as usual, but the most unusual thing of it was how well the lizards seemed prepared for the cat's defensive maneuvers and even exploited the small window of weaknesses in every move, wounding many. A very large, very confident lizard army attack had required her and the other clerics to do damage control. As she battled the cleric had the fleeting thought of the lizards being much more prepared this time, in fact too prepared.

It was like they _knew _every tactic thrown at them, inside and out_, _not to mention the unexplained disappearance of several cats and no sign of defeat or capture.

Drawing the lizards a blueprint of the city's defenses would accomplish the same thing as releasing the prisoners should they talk to the right lizards if the two didn't honor the heir's compassion.

Her spotted coat got a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the balmy weather.

"Then let us go over new maneuvers for the remaining brigades. I'm sure I can count on you for some ideas."

The king had an expectant glint in his eyes for his ever prepared son.

It was exactly what the striped prince had wanted to hear from the way he straightened and boldly followed after the king leaving Cheetara concealed amongst the foliage.

The lithe she-cat slipped from the brush after the two cats are out of sight stepping past browning apple halves and into the grove of oranges. She'd take the northside wall out; it would allow her to get to her quarters more quickly.

She makes the leap onto the garden wall ledge soundlessly, pausing to watch the lion and tiger disappear into the palace.

Tygra pauses in mid step, sensing a pair of eyes on him but finds the garden and all of its walls empty. Whether he's imagining it or not he doesn't know but he could swear he faintly smells sweetgrass and—

But she isn't there and he knows he's simply imagining.

The striped cat sighs following Claudus inside.


	3. Grief

_**GRIEF**_

Thank you everyone for reading and those of you that review thank you. I will write as long as I know people are enjoying it, drop a review if you enjoyed it or didn't either way let's someone know they are appreciated for their work. This chapter is a tribute the death of my youngest infant nephew one year ago today, with love this chapter is dedicated to my dear sister and baby Erik. We love you and miss you every day.

-VixenVampirechick

* * *

><p>"<em>Rest now to rise again Father."<em>

"_May your next life show you peace."_

-Grieving sons Lion-O and Tygra.

She isn't sure how long the three of them have spent paused at the edge of the cliffside overlooking the ruins of Thundera but she can guess it's been at least an hour, perhaps two, as the sky was a pale blue bordering pink, a sign of first light, when they had first emerged from the cavern. The pink has faded, leaving only pale blue and the shadows were clearing in the sun's gradual appearance.

She's sore and suspects it has to do with her body still tight with anxiety over their close escape and she's finding it difficult even now that the danger has passed to get her body to be as blank and still as her mind is.

Since her mind is mostly centered she focuses on centering her body, she allows the world to fall away once her lids shut. She can only hear her blood rushing and the whispered intake of each breath from her nose to her lungs.

_Slow. Slow, Cheetara._

The blood no longer rushes and her heart rate slows in seconds to a near lethargic state that forces her fatigued muscles to slacken and she feels solid again. The cloud of numbness pushing against her will have to be kept in check for the two princes that remain and need her focused.

She still has a duty, a service to what remains of the royal family.

Both brothers, tiger and lion, stand there shoulder to shoulder so close to the steep precipice she feels her heart rhythm give a slight jump.

The rising smoke of the waning fires is thick and strong, forming a grey curtain around the princes, their faces greying with soot.

They're too far over almost leaning, both wearing the very same numb look.

Her nose is burning and her eyes sting unbearably and she is much further away from the worse of it but close enough to see the high shine of their irises and she can't be sure if it's the smoke that's causing it.

"We should go," she says finally.

She's surprised at how…_small_ she sounds.

Tygra is the first to move, coming away from the cliffside he doesn't even look at her but he is beside her when he addresses his brother.

"She's right, we can't linger here anymore. They'll find us," Tygra reasons.

He sounds sure and strong. Casual. She feels a bit better even knowing it's a falsehood.

"Let them," Lion-O growls.

He doesn't move from his spot and Cheetara can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. The lion's emotions swelling like an overfilled water skin.

She's not sure what to do. The heir needs time, but it is a luxury they cannot afford. The city has fallen and with it some number of five thousand cats, including the one she called king and these two brothers called father. The loss is staggering.

"Lion-O."

When the young lord turns his bright blue eyes are harsh and unwelcoming, his features twisted into nearly a snarl and they do not relent when Tygra is finally seen beyond the red haze. His brother's amber eyes hold no fire, his expression still.

"Come on, she's right, it's time to go."

He can't remember the last time Tygra had spoken to him in such a way. His tone is measured and gentle, almost paternal. Almost the way his father used to speak to him infinitely long ago when he was a staggering little cub and the world was far too bright for newly seeing eyes.

His father, _their _father would never be speaking to them again.

The world was not bright and Lion-O only wished he could be a blind cub again.

"I'm not leaving," Lion-O decides.

Their young lord doesn't even give them a moment to process his words before he's dropping to his knees to pivot and start scaling the cliff.

Cheetara is at a loss but not Tygra.

Suddenly the fire is back in Tygra's eyes once more, they don't have time for this and he suddenly has an urge to hit his brother and if he weren't already hanging along a cliff wall at an impressive 100 foot drop he isn't sure he wouldn't for Lion-O pulling something so stupid.

"Lion-O, stop, have you gone mad? What can you possibly hope to accomplish? The city is gone, the others cats are gone and father wouldn't want—

Lion-O nearly loses his precarious hold yanking his claws out of Tygra's grip before digging them deep into the wall.

"Father's not here!" He roars and he knows he sounds emotional and desperate and he doesn't care. "And he won't ever be again, but I'm not leaving him down there somewhere probably being mocked, desecrated or put out there for the crows."

Lion-O swallows and his tongue remains dry and thick in his mouth, his eyes hot.

He isn't sure he's ever felt so sick in his life.

"Our father, our king deserves better, they all do."

The cheetah and the tiger haven't moved but Lion-O is still climbing, digging in his powerful claws on all paws, feet and hands alike, to descend.

Cheetara looks to the oldest prince at her side, he still isn't looking at her.

"We shouldn't risk it, we need a head start, we…don't have time for it. He's the king now the risk is a stupid, unnecessary one."

His words are soft and full of regret.

The city will be full of lizards and they are only ensuring their own capture and possibly death by returning but she cannot insist again they leave. The lizards' victory over Thundera, over Claudus, will likely not go uncelebrated in perhaps a grisly fashion directed towards their fallen leader not unlike Lion-O mentioned.

She finds Tygra's large paw and squeezes it into her own and finally he is looking at her and the grief in those eyes is staggering, horrifying, but she'd take it over the disconnection and blankness.

"We will make time."

* * *

><p>Her hands and feet are raw and a bit swollen after the climb down, stone is not like wood and hanging on and maintaining ones grip required serious clawing deep into the stone and the dull pain working around her claws was becoming more than a nuisance.<p>

She is relieved when her feet touch solid earth and the sting of smoke in her nostrils is harsh again.

Cheetara jogs ahead to take the point of their triangle without a word as they move along the edge of the city, both princes follow the cleric a few paces behind.

Once the city's center is in sight they make their way silently to the games arena where they'd last seen their king before imprisonment though their stealth seems hardly necessary.

"Not a single lizard," she murmurs.

"Of course."

Tygra is barely a breath away, as though by magic, as she hadn't seen nor heard him approach.

"Why hang out in the city when there's a palace to loot?" Tygra darkly observes.

He nor Lion-O wait for the cleric before entering the arena and their king isn't hard to spot.

His fiery mane is a vibrant flag peeking past the forever sleeping giant's form.

Cheetara slows to a near stop at the entrance of the arena but neither of her companions has noticed, they are silent and carefully moving towards Lord Claudus' body.

Their footfalls are colored with hesitation and Lion-O is sure his heart is beating so hard and erratic he may just end up with it sitting atop his tongue. He's come to his knees only a breath away from the body.

Claudus is…so still, his countenance has lost all color, his golden even seems darker.

Lion-O is careful, so careful he can barely allow himself more than the pads of his hands to rest upon the king; he has a strange fear than he can barely understand the logic to of _hurting_ his father, or breaking-, dissolving him into dust.

When Tygra appears a mere foot back Lion-O barely notices and it is a relief for the eldest brother, he isn't sure he can come closer without being swallowed by his brother's grief, it's hard enough when his own is bubbling, boiling his insides.

"We should—" Tygra starts. His eyes fall on Claudus and his brother's hands, both the same tawny color and one day would probably be the same size and shape.

His own, a rich blood orange, is not like either's.

His father, his brother—

Claudus may be dead but he's the one who feels severed, dead from any connection to either lion.

His stomach twists painfully at that thought and he forces out his next words in a nearly mute exhale, "I'll go start a fire. I'll need your help moving him to the west corridor."

If Lion-O hears him he doesn't know and Tygra leaves him be.

Wood isn't hard to find from the ravished square of their city, everything is broken around him. He gathers as much splintered timber he can carry for the fire.

Tygra stops in the archway, Cheetara is standing there next to a flaming pyre of broken wood and the foot of a tall stone slab that once served as the base of their Lord's marble likeness, only the feet remain.

"We should have enough firewood to finish the rites and rituals as soon as you both are ready."

Tygra isn't sure what to say, she must have worked very fast and hard to set up such a pyre in such a short amount of time.

"Give him a few minutes."

Cheetara nods in that docile mute way he's familiar with from members of the clericy, but it's odd now, she isn't anymore their protector than he is a prince anymore.

That life, that world is gone.

"Tygra."

He looks tired and angry and she can see that blankness creeping back into his eyes. It's frightening, the way it keeps rolling in like the tide, she can only hope he doesn't disappear into it.

"I'm sorry."

His reaction isn't the one she was hoping for; he's still watching the flames.

"He was a great king, honorable and fair, much loved by his people."

Tygra nods shortly not meeting her eyes. "Thanks."

"Even more loved by his _**two**_ sons."

That catches his attention, but her eyes give away nothing but sympathy and understanding and he wonders how she knows what to say.

"He was your father too, say goodbye. You will not have another chance," she urges. "I will tend the flame as long as necessary."

She's gone back to tending the flames and clearing away the corridor of rubble of stones and glass ending their short discussion.

Cheetara feels her heart lift through its veil of her own grief watching the striped cat return to the arena to take his proper place next to his grieving brother and their mighty king, and father.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4 coming soon...<p> 


	4. Seasick

Alright guys! Sorry about the lack of updates in a little while, life has been nuts, lost my job, got another one and decided to open my own business AND I moved all in a month, I'm exhausted! Hopefully this chapter didn't turn out too bad wrote it pretty hastily. Thanks for bearing with me and enjoy!

**SEASICK **

_"Why don't I feel good about this Tygra?" _

_- Cheetara (Ramlak Rising)_

"Tygra?"

She hears him before she sees him, retching violently over the side of the ship.

The tiger coughs, groans and retches again as the ship rolls forward.

Its nearly ten minutes before he finds his feet wobbling a bit, the claws of his feet digging for purchase and only splittering worn rotting planks when the ship rolls back, he settle for seizing the railing.

She doubts the tiger has any idea as to what is causing him to be so out of sorts if his frown and vise-like grip upon the ship's railing is any indication.

She drops to her knees to dig thoroughly through the large canvas bag without falling over with the frequent pitching of the ship.

There, just what he needs.

Tygra turns his eyes only when her hand makes contact with his shoulder, he seems to not trust himself to make nothing but the most minuscule movement. His expression is odd, pinched and trying it's best to slacken into relaxation.

He's clearly doing his best to conceal his condition from her, unaware she's already witnessed it.

"Cheetara," he addresses his voice gruff from its expulsion of sick, "everything okay?"

Cheetara lays a gentle hand atop his that is tightly clenched to the ships railing urging his hold to loosen. He looks a bit embarrassed and does his best to carefully straighten and the poor tiger looks as though he's going to be sick again.

"Here, this should help."

He eyes the strange plant in his hands and gives an obligatory sniff. It's dry and feels like parchment with a sharp but not unpleasant odor.

"It's ginger root, to control the nausea," she explains.

Ah, so she had seen.

_Perfect._

He looks ready to protest when she adds carefully, "you're balance is compromised with the rolling of the ship. You're mind and your eyes are getting two different signals, telling you you're moving and you're not, it creates an unpleasant confusion that creates symptoms of dizziness and vomiting. They call it seasickness."

He's definitely nauseous and it doesn't help that his stomach is quivering with exhaustion at the violent emptying of its only meal in a long while and the first pangs of hunger are joining the hurt. But it's made all the more horrible that Cheetara is a witness to his humiliation and she doesn't seem to be moving along anytime soon.

If anything she's come closer, not at all put off by his retching.

He thinks to say something to her, anything, but all he can really focus on is trying to tamper down the need to vomit again and he doesn't trust his stomach and mouth not to betray him in an attempt to recover some of his dignity, he's pretty sure he'd have not a scrap of pride left should he get sick all over her.

Cheetara's smile just barely turns the corners of her pink mouth, a look encouragement.

_Or maybe amusement_, he wonders.

Despite the latter fear he manages to speak after swallowing hard. "Guess I'm just lucky enough to be the only one not immune to this seasick thing."

Cheetara shrugs not the least bit affected by his gloomy tone pressing now a water skin to his mouth, he gratefully swallows. "They say its more likely to affect more dexterous cats like you, those top knotch senses make the signals your mind is getting more apparent, that stealth of yours both a blessing and a curse."

He narrows his eyes at her in a look of skepticism unsure if he completely believes her statement full of easy praise and compliment, he decides she is sincere and it helps rebuild the last bit of his broken dignity.

"Is that what they say?"

His eyes look nearly bright orange in the sun with a deepening darkness within his slitted pupils, she finds them more striking than usual in full sunlight as she can really see them now.

She gestures to the forgotten ginger root palmed in his fist, he hadn't even noticed he was squeezing it.

"Small bites are best."

He does as she says and takes a small bite chewing carefully. It's almost spicy but sweet like a citrus fruit, strange but not unpleasant. He forces his tight throat to swallow before doing the same a few more times.

She's still standing there, shoulder to shoulder with him as she looks out into the setting sun resting her arms on the ship's railing.

Perhaps she thinks it necessary to keep him company and mother him, he thinks to thank her and tell her she doesn't have to babysit him.

He's sure, while thoughtful, to think nothing of her attentions; she obviously has a strong mothering instinct that's all. She's been spending a lot of time with the kits and of course Lion-O offering quiet words of wisdom and small gestures of comfort.

She would one day be an incredible mother if she ever had the desire.

"Better?" she asks.

Tygra nods. "Well I definitely don't feel sick anymore."

She looks pleased; she guides him forward with a gentle pull of his hand. "Come on."

Hesitantly he releases the railing fully to follow her.

He nearly runs into her at her sudden stop probably due to concentrating too hard on walking straight, while the nauseous is gone his mind is still rolling with the ship, dizzy.

They are at the back of the vessel where a few of the crew members are hoisting a few crates and canvases paying the two cats no mind for the moment.

She's suddenly behind him and guiding him forward to the railing, the sun is low, painting the sky a deep orange color, there's a hand on his side and another at the top of his shoulder.

"There. Look out at the horizon, focus. Concentrate on it."

He thinks to ask why but the answer is clear as his feet feel surer and his mind clearer.

"Dizzy or nauseous anymore?" she questions.

He wonders if he's imagined her voice sudden becomes soft and throaty as her paws have found their way to rest on his lower abdomen to soothe away the last of its trembles and he's a little dizzy for an entirely different reason as he stares down in disbelief of his incredulous good fortune.

His dark eyes get wide, with an expression much like a rabbit caught in a snare.

"No, definitely not."

He wants to kick himself at the pathetic little mewl his voice takes on.

Cheetara takes note of his sudden stiffness and the odd pitch in his voice and she's immediately sorry to have forgotten herself and having unconsciously invaded the prince's space.

She misses the confusion and disappointment in his eyes having retracted her hands smoothly in an instant needing to correct her mistake of violation.

"Glad to help," she says.

And just like that she's walking away, more like fleeing before coming round to the helm where Lion-O stands and she's speaking with him, those big claret-colored eyes alight with worry and protectiveness, his brother does not notice, the ship's pitching and rolling not even enough to faze his confusion.


	5. Doubt

**DOUBT**

_"We have the sword we have each other but most importantly we have hope."_

_-Cheetara to Lion-O (Song of the Petalars)_

The woods are quiet, but not unnaturally so, there still sounds the calls of birds and owls and frogs and crickets making their music as he slinks along tree to tree breathing in the heavy scent of sap and pine nuts.

His claws, both upon his hands and feet, find easy purchase on the bark of the redwoods and he moves along soundless and swift even springing lightly onto another tree limb at a crouch. The limb groans a bit at the heavy cat's weight and he continues on slower as it narrows and he must spring again.

The striped cat is close to fifty feet up but it's of little concern he's fallen from worse heights and this one he's certain he can control to some extent without injury should his balance be compromised.

His prey snaps its head round to the whistle of a branch he has disturbed but Tygra has already stilled and the color blind bird does not notice his dark eyes flash yellow in the night of the moon beaming through the trees. The eaglon ruffles his ebony feathers before going back to preening.

Tygra would guess the bird to be at least sixty pounds, a large enough catch for everyone that the camp to eat well for the night if he could secure the catch.

Eaglons were not easily caught off-guard and this particular one Tygra had been trailing for a good hour was particularly paranoid, with the bird fluttering higher and further with its sense of danger every time the tiger got close.

He was doing this the hard way, slinking about through trees to catch their dinner, he did have a whip and some kind of energy blaster but he can't bring himself to use either to assist in the hunt it just doesn't seem sporting.

Besides he hasn't forgotten the pride in his father's eyes in declaring Tygra the best natural hunter he'd ever seen when the king had taught him the finer points in grueling survival conditions long ago when he was just a spindly cub, he intends to honor his proud title tonight.

He didn't know about the others but hunting the way of Cats did in old and forgotten times was thrilling and seemed to satisfy a baser instinct he was having a bit of trouble ignoring on nights like tonight.

Somewhere just a mile off two cubs were splashing around at the water's edge of a river their camp rested on squabbling about nonsensical things that made perfect sense when hunger and fatigue gnaws at the belly. There was no fish to be found today at the stream, spooked with the washing of gritty clothing and bodies.

Perhaps even overfished as he had easily pulled in every fat trout, salmon and cod that swam into his claws, the kittens wolfing down nearly double what the adult cats did.

He had volunteered to find food again tonight after watching the kits try their own hand at it, only to end up drenched and freezing for their trouble, they had nearly forgotten kits could not often tolerate empty bellies the way grown Cats could.

Their resident cleric had volunteered to come along but he had no wish to hunt with another cat, even her.

Or perhaps especially her.

He's not certain his decline of her invite is due to an instinctive solitary hunter mentality or some need to be elsewhere as she and Lion-O sat together by their fire. They had looked entirely too cozy together hours before, she trying vainly to spark a flint and Lion-O kneeling there just over her shoulder offering suggestions.

They had not asked his help in the task nor noticed him there at the edge of the trees, the ease of their close proximity noted and his acknowledgement of jealousy doing nothing to stop him from feeling its sting.

"_Unbelievable, not even a spark," Lion-O complained eyeing the flint suspiciously, he gives her a lopsided grin, "maybe it's broken."_

_The cleric's mouth twitches in amusement at his joke. "Perhaps Tygra will have more luck in setting the fire when he returns."_

_"Of course he would, it's not like there's anything he can't do."_

_It's a grumbled statement colored with envy but Tygra can't even manage to gloat inwardly._

_Cheetara smiles a full smile this time and it seems all too secretive._

_"I'm sure together we too can build a fire," she vows._

_This time as she worked the flint it sparks weakly and Cheetara pushes away at her long blonde tresses in an uncharacteristic show of annoyance before clacking away at the flint again revealing her long swan-like throat and the swell of her pulse._

_A flame of heat jolted him at the unexpected exposure._

_It's clearly unintentional but damning to his senses that are nearly snapped nonetheless._

_He's already edgy whenever he happens upon those two and has to fight the need to drive Lion-O away from this beautiful she-cat who's stolen his heart and instantly he's battling the want to set his teeth into her pulse, seize her in a mating grip and just claim her already._

_It's a savage forbidding thought that he immediately dismisses._

Tygra's thoughts are broken as the bird abruptly hops to a lower perch picking at a knob of bark and Tygra shifts coming around the enormous trunk to descend down a few feet until he's standing just under the animal easily balancing on a long stretch of tree limb, the sharp eyed bird still picking at the rotting wood.

He's wasting time but he does not move to seize his prey, clearly just as distracted as the predator, it snaps up a beetle before pecking again at the trunk of his tree.

_He hadn't missed the way the lion's nostrils flared with the scent of her pulse so close to his nose and he announced his presence quickly before he did something stupid like attack his "king"._

_"See you got a fire going."_

_They had both startled as though caught like naughty cubs._

_"Of course as if we couldn't manage," Lion-O says._

_"I'm impressed you've never been able to light so much as a well oiled lantern before."_

_Its a mean-spirited dig that slips from his tongue before he knows it and he's not sorry especially when he thinks of that overeager smile his little brother wears around Cheetara._

_It's effective the cheer on Lion-O's face effectly souring as his blue eyes cut at Tygra's smirk. "Of course we can't all be you."_

_"You'll get there someday little brother," he mocks. "Anyhow since Cheetara's done all the work for you maybe you can gather some firewood."_

_Lion-O nearly bristles, but replies relatively calm, "oh yeah? And what exactly is stopping you from doing anything?"_

_Tygra yawns in a show of disinterest and boredom, "I'll be hunting, we may be okay for the night without food but those kits look ravenous, best find something before they consume each other."_

_Cheetara stands smoothing over her clothes, "We'll be much more successful together in a paired hunt than seperate."_

_Tygra shakes his hand, "It's alright I'm more of a solitary kind of hunter, best stay and protect our camp." He winks at her, "besides who's going to stop Lion-O from burning it down if either of us aren't here?"_

_Now Lion-O looks about ready to rip his head off and Tygra feels somewhat better._

He's stirring his mind again of the incident of his sea sickness and with it Cheetara's strange attentions.

Had she meant her affectionate hands? Her tender care? Or had she temporary forgotten he wasn't a red-maned lion whom those feelings were meant for?

Yes. Clearly that was it.

Tygra doesn't feel any more clear minded than before but it's late and past time for him to return to camp.

He shifts his claws and watches just for a few more moments to be sure he hasn't been spotted.

_Gotcha._

This time the crackle of the tree branch is loud as Tygra springs off of it and the squall of the ill-fated bird is cut short when the tiger's weight slams into it, the force of the blow breaking the bird's fragile neck before they hit the ground.

He ascends back up the tree after securing his quarry to a sling returning to camp in time to see the others observing the whirling mechs trampling through the forest.


	6. A Complicated Heart

**A COMPLICATED HEART**

"_Are you telling me our only chance of finding the Book of Omens is if his sword gives us directions?"_

"_It's about as hopeless as it sounds."_

"_Lion-O can get us there he just has to believe in himself, it might help if you believed in him too."_

- Panthro, Tygra and Cheetara (Journey to the Tower of Omens)

Tygra has been avoiding her, she's pretty positive of that fact now. She had first noticed his aloofness in that tangled briar, he had been quiet, true, since they had left Thundera behind and begun their journey but now his silence was even more pronounced with some emotion he seemed desperate to bury.

She had first thought it grief and had decided to given him both time and distance, well, she had _tried_ to anyway, but she'd often be setting a tent or gathering firewood or even just musing somewhere at a distance and find herself next to him. They seemed to gravitate towards one another without conscious effort and she wonders at the pull of his aura to her own, it's a magic in itself that seems to grow with the more time she spends around him. It's intoxication, the pleasant pull of it, and she does her very best to ignore the sensations, the pleasant hum is a huge distraction from her duties as a cleric.

She cannot let up on Lion-O now. He still needs her and will continue to for a little while at least, he had not the confidence to lead, only confusion and youthful brashness and would surely struggle even more without a single cat to support him. She believed in her king and trusted him to lead them and only wished the others did as well, especially his brother.

But Tygra is struggling even more than the others; he's already ten steps ahead of his sibling in so many things and has no patience for blunders no matter how small. Some days the sharpness of his tongue is more like a razor and less like it's usually poking sting, with all of it spoken to Lion-O.

Tygra must be given time and with time acceptance and finally respect.

_One cannot force a mountain to move, _she thinks.

Cheetara cannot ask it of him as much as she cannot force herself to ignore for too long the feelings she has for him, she's growing only more conscious of them without the separation of the walls of the clerisy and the palace of Thundera and she isn't sure how she's supposed to handle being this close to him every day and not getting distracted, so she supposes she too is doing some avoiding herself by absorbing herself into the job she promised her mentor she would do and help Lion-O.

And it is her pleasure to assist him. Lion-O has not surprised her with his small successes and victories; he is a product after all of their Lord Claudus, victories and successes are as much inherited in the royal bloodline as vibrant red manes.

She spots a flash of orange and Tygra is just a short distance away sitting perched atop the Thundertank with the general, Panthro both are sitting casually but their heavy lids look desperate for a good night's slumber. They've been almost cozy with each other in the last few days, Tygra slipping back into his role of collected aristocrat prince to the general's gruff authority.

She joins them, her fur warming from the effect of the sun's rays on the usually cold steel of the tank and she can easily see why the two cats have chosen to post themselves here, it's a high enough point to observe a good distance around them even through the maze of trees.

Already she feels sleep lulling at the edge of her mind, her breathing a slow drag, it feels a little too perfect for her sitting there watching the morning give way to the afternoon and close enough to scent Tygra with a light breeze.

Cheetara shifts closer to Tygra's side, so close she can feel his body heat against her side. He acknowledges her presence with only a bemused look, she expects him to slip away but he doesn't move. He says nothing about her close proximity before stiffly turning his attention back to his brother.

With the ancient sword poised high and straight, Lion-O is all but glaring through the eyeholes within the hilt, his voice ringing with impatience and imploring frustration.

"Are you telling me our only chance of finding the Book of Omens is if his sword gives us directions?" Panthro finally asks.

Tygra shrugs and she swears he sounds amused when he answers the panther. "It's about as hopeless as it sounds."

"Lion-O can get us there he just has to believe in himself, it might help if you believed in him too," she adds.

Tygra looks taken aback by her words and sure enough Cheetara's pretty pink mouth is set in a thin line that clearly shows she's angry with him, he finds he doesn't quite know what to say to her or if it's wise to say anything, she's never looked at him that way and he feels like a kitten being scolded with those eyes of her digging into him.

He hates to admit she has silenced him with her disapproval and that look.

But she does not hold him long as she's slides to the far edge of the tank before easing down to the grass, her intentioned destination clear.

Tygra is unprepared for the way his breath catches at the sight of her striding towards his brother.

She's glowing, her hair a white-gold sparkle, the dark nearly black spots in her hair flashing with her every movement and when the sun floods her frame her tawny coat of cream has the look of molten gold. But the most striking thing of all is the way he's unable to help watching the soft contracting of the muscles in the small of her back with the easy swing to her hips that makes his mouth go dry.

He doesn't catch her words but his concern is less of her words and more of her actions, she's placing encouraging hands upon Lion-O's shoulders and speaking so close to his ear Tygra can clearly see Lion-O's fur prickle unconsciously drawn to her presence.

A hot white heat is rolling through his gut and he can taste iron on his tongue, a hot sting making him aware he's drawn blood after nicking his tongue with gritted fangs.

He's decided he doesn't care what the two of them do together.

"_He sacrificed himself for you, for all of us."_

-Cheetara (Journey to the Tower of Omens)

He's still thinking about it, dispute resolving not to he is, even after the harrowing events of the day. Nearly getting filleted, almost drowning, and blasted by the old mummy had been hair-raising and for all the reward of snatching the Book right from Mumm-ra's withered claws they had indefinitely loss Jaga.

For a reward of no worth at that, finding the blank pages had been devastating for the whole company.

It had been mutually decided that it would be best to make camp within the Tower as they figured out their next course of action, with the book being useless knowing what to do next was difficult.

Lion-O himself however had not given up on the idea of the Book being useful and had resolutely sat in the tower top fiddling with the useless relic for hours now, never minding Tygra's own suggestion of discarding it. He sat there now, while they sat waiting, and waiting for what besides a good night's sleep he didn't know.

Answers seemed far away and he's never been a cat that can stay put for long.

His pacing around the Tower of Omens a second time and it has him absently noting he has not seen Cheetara in a bit, no more than a good quarter hour but still…

She isn't with Lion-O and that itself is odd and concerning.

The cheetah had insisted she was just fine when he'd inquired about her hit from Mumm-ra but she'd been a closed book right after.

Tygra combs the area around the tower carefully.

Perhaps she wasn't okay and was hurt after all.

He's suddenly ashamed of himself for not tending to her right away after she'd taken the hit, yes, the book was important and he was nearly certain she of all people would want it safe, as Jaga had commanded, but-

He crosses the chasm stepping carefully over the flat stone pillars of the bridge coming away from the tower, she is there at the ledge where a few spindly shrubs are stubbornly weaving, and she's nearly hidden by the foliage.

A broken lantern cradled to her breast as though she holds a child and not a casing of iron and broken glass. He cannot see her whole in the shadow of the cliff side overhang but the parts of her he can see look as though her body longs to crumble.

And she's just standing there, eyes squeezed shut and inhaling a long draw of air that releases as a broken faltering exhale before repeating slightly faster her breaths just as quiet but even more broken.

He suddenly feels like a terrible intruder but knows he can't possible walk away now seeing she is clearly upset.

"Cheetara?"

Her eyes fly open and they are larger than he's ever seen them. The coral of her irises swallowed by each dilated pupil and they are so glassy he can see himself within them.

"Are you all right?" He takes but a few hesitant steps forward craning to see her eyes which she's now holding downcast to that lantern.

She nods before answering quietly, "I'm all right, thank you Tygra."

Cheetara doesn't move, not even to offer her eyes to him in her lie, she's certain she'll just break under his concerned gaze.

"You disappeared so I thought I'd just make sure."

Cheetara nods mutely and he's sure she isn't even listening.

He comes even closer, kneeling to rest on one knee beside her. He has the sudden urge to nuzzle her cheek against his own, to comfort her.

"I'm sorry about Jaga," he offers.

Her spotted arms weave more tightly around the lantern as though guarding it from him, "thank you."

Tygra understands, he was there the day Jaga had carried her into the clerisy, accepted her into the order and even his heart. He knew she was well trusted and highly favored and it had just as much to do with her skill as Jaga's own admiration for her, he'd guess him the closest thing to family Cheetara had, though he can't be certain, she'd never spoken about family before.

"But he wouldn't want you carrying around that old broken lantern forever you know."

When she meets him eyes there's a glint to them that's kind and spirited even.

"I have a better idea."

Cheetara isn't sure she cares to hear it, it hurts far too much the idea of letting go. Her hope of his survival after the fall of Thundera shattered with the lantern and the lantern is everything she has left.

Which if she's honest is nothing more than a trace energy signature but at least she can still sense he was there once.

She can't feel anything except this biting discomfort to her hands and a climbing tightness in her chest, so when the heat of his claws over her own holding the lantern wash over her she feels herself becoming solid again.

"That lantern of yours will serve a fine vessel. How about assuring Jaga a happy, safe passage home huh?" he suggests.

Cheetara does her best to grant him a smile for his thoughtfulness but it will not come.

"You are not a cleric; you don't know the proper Rites of the Departed and you can't channel, only a conduit can."

"I know them, all twelve prayers, and for your information I channel just fine," he assures her loosening her hold of the lantern to gingerly place it in the dirt between them. "And I know you can handle the rest. I'll be your conduit. Trust me."

Cheetara thinks to ask the tiger prince just how he knows anything about rituals performed by clerics for the dead in the privacy of their clerisy and at that how he knows such rituals can be molded by a single cleric to include positive energies and magick's of those who are receptive as conduits.

He does not offer an explanation so she does not ask.

She sits with a small tug of suggestion from his hold on her hands, she notes him paying great attention to her hands as she slips her hands from his. She hadn't even noticed she'd managed to cut the tops of her knuckles on the glass.

"I'm fine, just a small nick," Cheetara says.

Tygra nods taking his own seat across from her, he extends both arms to her own, stark white hands open in invitation and she takes them.

The minute their claws hands meet, his nearly double the size of her own, she feels him faintly, he's already begun shifting his mental energy to prepare for an opening. Once she's settled her mind's eye can "see" again and she gingerly pushes open his wider for the necessary breech. His energy, his life force is acting as a signature of his soul and her own pulse to meet together. The vessel of Jaga's glass and iron prison containing trace amounts of his essence acting as a magnetic force molding both energies inside the other.

Cheetara gasps when they merge and she knows he's affected too, if his sinking of claws into her wrist is any indication. It's incredible.

She can touch his insides even taste him and the throb of his energies is _powerful _and brimming with magicks. Cheetara had known Tygra possessed trace amounts of magick, that much is obvious with his invisibility, but there's something else larger and more erratic and powerful centering in his mind.

She means to probe but already their signature is joining the air around them and the earth and even the waters of the river below, it grants less control but draws in more needed magicks to beats a loud rhythm that is not in their ears at all before hammering and then pulsing quietly.

"Of the earth, of the sky, of the water, spirits lead them home," she begins. "Take of my claw, take of my tooth, take of my heart, my soul and lead them enter."

She can feel her hands shaking and she has to pause before recovering. "And once entered, embrace me and know me once more and forget me not in your journey but keep me into the next life."

Tygra is sure now even through the pleasant happy hum of the spirits around them Cheetara, composed and clever, is struggling, her grief roaring around them over the sweet genial measure of her voice.

She feels him finally.

Jaga's presence a comforting trickle emoting a clear message that is easy enough for her to make sense of.

_Fear not, my soul goes safely on to the stars and to the sky. _

"I will miss you always," she whispers fiercely.

Her face feels hot and her throat impossibly tight and she doesn't even hear Tygra completing the rites, doesn't even realize it until she feels the air begin to thin and a crackling pulsation of energies and magicks dissolving.

"Journey home, take my heart for safe passage and forget not to also take grief," Tygra finishes.

He opens his eyes to the sensation of something hot and wet landing on the top of his thumb.

A single wet trail down her prominent cheekbones confirms the tear is Cheetara's own. The redness of her eyes and the single tear all that betrays her sadness.

The plane is closed and with it Jaga.

In all his years of knowing the cleric he does not believe he's ever seen her cry. It wasn't that she was cold; in fact she was probably the most caring cat he knew. Sometimes he remembers the haughty, impulsive little girl cub and is in wonder of how she became such a patient and mild mannered she-cat, one so very different from the other and yet exactly the same. But in all that time marked by changes of the body and mind he'd never once seen her shed a single tear.

Tygra is surprised her pain can still affect him the way it does now and he doubts a carefully picked day astrid is going to fix her situation this time.

But it's ebbing, because she looks stronger and more peaceful now.

"Thank you Tygra."

"My pleasure," he answers easily, because it truly is. He finds his feet looking across the chasm to see a burly figure and an orange light.

Panthro no doubt starting a fire.

"Don't linger too long I don't want to have to come rescue you from something out here."

She tries to hide her smile of amusement at his absurd statement of a cleric needing rescuing and the suggestion of a prince doing the rescuing but her elusive tactic seems to amuse the snarky prince even more.

"Tygra."

Tygra halts turning.

"The Rites, how did you know them?"

She imagines he'll confess to sneaking around the cleric ceremonies looking for mischief as a cub and charming his way into learning a few tricks from Jaga but she knows she's wrong by the sudden sober expression.

"Jaga, taught it to me a long time ago. My mother," he started, then clarifying, "the Queen, when she died I didn't understand. So Jaga took me the temple before she was buried and he taught me the magicks necessary to be a conduit, he said I was a natural wielder of certain energies."

Of that Jaga was certainly truthful and she wonders if he ever shared with the prince just how much he wielded that could go beyond tricks of invisibility. She wonders too how much of what Jaga had taught the tiger was secret as she'd never known it and feels privileged that he would share it.

"I think he knew I just wanted to feel her surround me, one last time and know where she was going was good and things were okay." He shrugs but she can tell the memory is not an easy one. "I was just a little cub."

"You should have told me, you and Lion-O were owed a much better chance to say goodbye to Lord Claudus, had I known you two were trained as conduits-"

Tygra shakes his head, "_I _was taught the rituals by Jaga. Lion-O was just an infant when she died and he had no reason to try to teach him when he was old enough."

"But you could have—

"Lion-O would not have been granted our father's spirit, Lord of the Thundercats or not, you and I both know magick doesn't work that way." His expression is far-away and hard with confliction. "I couldn't if he can't. He felt separated enough from Father with adding the Rites to complicate things. We had our goodbyes and your magicks more than assured him safe passage."

He is right but her heart still hurts for what she knows is his want and now regret. His wonderful gift to her had only served to remind him of what he had not allowed himself. What she was not powerful enough to grant Lion-O and thereby grant Tygra. But she was not nearly as powerful as Jaga and such an attempt to mold one's energies and magicks into a single force to work as a conduit could leave a mind shattered, something she could never risk on Lion-O. And it still too depended on a mind that was beyond disciplined.

A situation she could not help even if she'd considered it.

"I'm sorry," she tells him.

But when she looks up Tygra is gone and there's only an empty lantern to keep her company.

Cheetara doesn't get up right away, instead she ponders on Tygra, he seemed a different cat than the one she had admonished that afternoon, sometimes its even a surprise for her his conflicting nature towards their king and his conflicted nature towards his heart.

His heart that continously makes quiet sacrifies, invisible even to her.

And she knows she's falling deeper in love.


	7. Resting Reflections

Sorry about the wait guys! Life and all! Thanks for the kind words and inspiration for this fic, special thanks to lookforme who's been nothing short of a miracle worker pushing me to continue (love ya), counting down to the final chapters...

**Resting Reflections**

"_Things are looking up, no transportation, nothing to eat, no shelter. If the rain stopped it might be bearable."_

-Lion-o (Berbils)

There's a rumble of thunder before lightning crackles across the sky signaling the rain to beat down harder upon them.

She can hear the kittens grumbling to themselves about the mucky weather huddling under a gargantuan mushroom next to Lion-O with Snarf perched like some strange parrot upon Kit's shoulder. The diminutive trio staring with luminous eyes that are wide and miserable, looking very much like drowned rats having not scrambled fast enough under cover when the storm had hit.

Cheetara was quick to join them taking her place next to Lion-O who looks happy to have her company despite the wind now threatening to rip their mushroom shelter straight out of the ground and leave them exposed to the elements.

The stalks simply rock with each push of the wind but hold fast against the thunderous storm until the worst of it passed leaving only heavy rain.

Relieved, the twins are quick to scout the patch of mushrooms before wordlessly agreeing on a large mostly dry one under a cluster of taller mushrooms; they scamper up and settle atop for the night. She sends up the last of their blankets to the little ones who take them without a spoken word of thanks but a smile from the two wily siblings is enough.

Tygra is standing under his own ground level group of mushrooms moving a few steps forward and then back again before seeming to settle on a spot kneeling down to a mostly dry patch of ground and setting to work, but on what she isn't sure.

She blames sleep deprivation for not catching on to the older prince's task before Lion-O calls out to him.

"What are you doing?"

The eldest doesn't even look up; his claws are raking through a moss patch pulling up an abundant share he's gathered in a pile along with a few fat branches and twigs.

"What's it look like?"

_In this weather? Impossible._

There's an air of exasperation to Tygra's tone despite his cool exterior that Lion-O frowns at.

"Good luck," Lion-O calls back with his own dismissive tone. Bright blue eyes rolling, he turns to her, "let him freeze if he wants to, no sense in telling him it's a pointless task. He's the most bullheaded cat you'll ever know."

She wants to tell him how right he is about Tygra being stubborn but she isn't sure Tygra would appreciate it no matter how fondly she means it.

They wordlessly close the space between them tightly wedged shoulder to shoulder and she notes there is a dry patch to the right of Lion-O he is mindful to keep clear for a certain striped sibling. She gives the thoughtful redheaded lord's shoulder a squeeze before raising her knees to her chest and setting her chin on them.

She sees Lion-O do the same tucking of his knees with a little grin breaking the gloom on his face. Cheetara can think of worse things than the company of the two princes, a general and two wily cubs, she's quite lucky in fact to have such resourceful, likeable company.

They remain under the cover of their shared mushroom shelter curling into themselves in an attempt to keep their extremities from going numb, the cleric finding it nearly impossible as her damp pelt refuses to get any drier.

Only Tygra remains exposed to the wind chill that continues to carry sprays of rain but if the tiger was cold he definitely wasn't showing any signs of discomfort. His orange striped coat had taken on a deep rusty brown color as rain clung to him and water from his mane was dripping down his neck, one pointed ear twitching irritably at the fall of raindrops as he continues to work.

The rhythmic clack of stone against stone begins to lull her to sleep despite chilly temperatures and her neck and back taking on stiffness from her awkward position and she wants to tell him it is pointless and to suggest he come join the two under their meager shelter. No sooner does she think to do so that the tiger's flint rock sparks, a red ash igniting a small orange speck on the dry moss before spreading to the wood atop it to become a flame that grows rapidly.

Cheetara has never ever seen him look so smug.

Or Lion-O so surprised.

Tygra's eyes pointedly meet hers before he turns away to settle under the stalk closest to the flames still grinning. She hadn't missed the invitation but it would feel far too much like abandonment to leave Lion-O so she remains next to her king but she can't help smiling with him.

The striped prince is truly a conundrum, since their moment alone at the tower weeks before she's found him a much more consistent presence, always some distance away but he's usually more often present and even approachable and that in itself is an improvement.

It was a pattern for the eldest prince whether he was easily found or not often depended on his mood and any guardian of the crown knew his mood to be sullen or pensive if it took several minutes to an hour to find even a trace of a clawprint in areas he was known to frequent outside of the palace. He'd been such a challenge for even the best clerics to track when he didn't want to be bothered.

Cheetara wonders if he's trying in some way to come closer, to be nearer to her the way she wants to be near him, because though he's much more visibly present he seems to edge an invisible divide, creating a wall she'd thought long crumbled in Thundera.

She thinks it nice to see he's obviously feeling a bit more himself the look he gives her across from the fire is all playful invitation that lifts her spirits sky-high.

The camp goes quiet of conversation in only minutes, no one in much mood for anything but rest.

But her spirits fall with the temperature as the night wears and she's nearly frozen, her toes numb and her belly feeling like ice and she can no longer bear the discomfort.

The thought of leaving her space and walking to the tank to obtain her travel cloak crosses her mind only momentarily as she's positive she'd seen Kit with it only a short while ago and as such she was probably still wrapped in it and she had no desire to take it from a cub who was currently tangled in it and half of their blankets.

Tygra yawns in his sleep and it's a grimace of fanged teeth before he settles once more in his upright position and she wonders if he's comfortable at all that way.

Cheetara smiles to herself, she'd been thinking a lot lately that perhaps the distraction of Tygra's nearness was instead a blessing, an opening for her to fulfill her duties as a cleric a_nd_ gain what she's longed for from him for as long as she can remember when she dares hope of it.

She had been awake very late a few nights following that night at the tower, the brief touch of their minds had been…powerful and unlike anything she'd ever felt, but she'd known him truly for a brief moment. Felt his heart, felt his soul and recognized its language.

It was beautiful and she was so focused on the power of it she hadn't thought about what she had touched even more briefly underneath it.

Loneliness. Anger. Sorrow.

Cheetara had known these things for a long time but touching those things inside him was different and painful in her recognition.

She's hoping perhaps to better acquaint herself with the tiger, the friend she had known mostly afar for over ten years but barely knew.

The thought saddens her deeply and she's determined to remedy it.

She wants to start now, cleric or not.

She feels guilty leaving Lion-O to fight off the cold himself but her guilt is short-lived seeing the king is in the same sitting position as before sleeping soundly even with the loss of her body heat.

The spotted cleric takes a moment to gather a few dry branches around the stalks of the mushrooms to contribute to the flames before coming to sit nearer to the flames and Tygra.

She eases herself next to him though she's certain he's not_ likely_ to shun her presence should he awaken she still doesn't wish to wake him, he and Lion-O are usually the last to settle for the night and the first to wake, they both needed the rest desperately.

She sits shoulder to shoulder with the large cat daring to press her full weight against his side. Her action does nothing to even budge him from his sleeping position.

Tygra's left ear twitches as she'd expected it to. She'd since in her quiet study of him made the observation of that one ear being more sensitive than the other and prone to twitching in high wind chill or perking the merest fraction more acutely hearing a whistled high, sharp noise. He groans when her hands met the top of his shoulder, a light growl sounding in his throat, but he doesn't awaken and she's glad for it, his sleep looks fitful at best, his brow wrinkled in tension.

In the distance Panthro is still tinkering away at his tank and Kit is still up as well playing her flute from above, neither seems particularly focused on her.

Her heart catches at how young and cub-like he looks right now.

To think it'd been over ten years since the first time she saw him. An eager cub playing soldier at the gates of the palace, all business and clearly unaware of how small and unimposing he looked. How very bossy he sounded…

She managed to disarm him and tongue-tie him with just a little smile and his cheeks colored so rapidly she was almost sorry to have startled him.

But now…

Small and unimposing were definitely not words anyone could associate with the tiger anymore.

His gawky stature once a few inches shorter than her, he easily had a good three inches over her now and far outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds, with all of that weight in impressive but not overly bulky musculature.

Time had been very good to the tiger.

He breathes, in and out, now snoring, the sound of it like a growl too.

She wants to soothe him the way he's comforted her and more but she means not to crowd him knowing already Tygra was not the type of cat that appreciated being "soothed", finding it too much like coddling.

He doesn't need or want her nurturing, but her king does.

Jaga had trusted her to protect and guide him and she would not fail him.

The sapphire-eyed lion has the makings of a great king but for now he's barely a grown cat with a great sword and the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She eyes Lion-O his face still pillowing his forearms and drawn up knees as he sleeps, only his wild red flame of mane visible.

He's far too young to face this alone.

She sighs looking out into the night, the fog making the stars above nearly invisible.

Thundera may have fallen but she's still a cleric and she would do whatever she must to help Lion-O succeed, it is her duty, her honor, her oath.

Cheetara's head already knows what her heart continues to deny.

_Lion-O_ is who needs her right now.

Not Tygra.

Her selfish want would have to wait while she assisted her king.

Her pillow gives a louder growl in his sleep and before she knows it she's quieting him with a simple caress of his brow, he unconsciously scents her hand the deep guttural sound quieting into a purr.

She settles against Tygra absorbing the warmth of his thicker coat and she sleeps the best she has since their journey began.

She can be a cleric tomorrow.

* * *

><p>The rip of thunder through the night sky is what awakens Lion-O and he nearly leaps to him feet before sucking in a few breaths and surveying his surroundings, the air he gulps feeling heavy and frigid, like swallowing mouthfuls of snow.<p>

He remembers now.

They'd stopped here to camp when the tank had broken down and the rain slapping against his mushroom shelter is loud but not nearly as loud as the ripples of lightning and the growling thunder that has renewed itself in the passing hours.

Wileykat and Kit are right where they've since settled for the night, with Kat and Snarf in a pile of fur and tangled limbs and the amount of contorting looks painful but both Snarf and Kat are snoring contently. There's still the reedy whistle of Kits lute that's an odd but pleasant interval of Panthro's hammering.

He'd venture a guess he'd drifted off hours ago and wonders how he'd even managed that when every bang and click of Panthro's tools causes him to wince.

Lion-O's lids hurt and he blearily notices none of the other slumbering members of their trope had stirred.

Tygra looked especially peaceful with Cheetara pressed in his side, her arms folded tightly to her chest. She had obviously moved sometime in the night to gain warmth from the fire.

Seeking the flame was understandable, but seeking _Tygra_?

When exactly did _that_ happen? Had he missed something?

_Of course, why am I so surprised?_

"Things are looking up," he mumbles, "no transportation, nothing to eat, no shelter. If the rain stopped it might be bearable."

But he knows he's lying, the thing that truly was bothering him was the breathy sigh every time Cheetara breathed, unconsciously nuzzling her cheek against the top of Tygra's shoulder.

He's somewhat aware he's being ridiculous trying to glare the two into awakening, the lion gets up, stretching, before gathering wood to throw onto their fire.

Lion-O can't help stealing glances at the two of them before flinging lumber onto the fire and th e wood clatters, the low flame gaining strength crackling, Cheetara shifts at the sound making a low murmur before falling over right into his brother's lap.

She's lying halfway across him, her hair in a golden heap and her lips parted gently. Her body forced into an impressive and suggestive arch with her back pressed into his legs and over them, she looks a spent lover sprawled half across Tygra's groin.

They've been cozy since they began their journey, well perhaps not literally but he knows he's not imagining _something _that make him wonder exactly what was going with them, what was he missing?

Everyone liked Tygra, why would she be any different?

Cheetara was perhaps the most stunning cat Lion-o had ever laid his eyes on and in the fact the only one he can recall who pays him much attention and respects him. Even better she believed in him and always told him such.

To him they just fit and no one could tell him otherwise.

How had Tygra managed to just sweep her away so quickly?

Lion-O did not often see his brother in the company of females now that he thinks about it, but in casual passing he was every bit the perfect gentlemen with she-cats. From servant to noble, from girl cub to elderly she-cat always pausing with a genial greeting and some even received a kiss of the hand in meeting or passing that seemed to make little ones hiding owlish eyes giggle into their tightly clutched dolls and even the old smile in the same bashful way the maidens did.

But Tygra had never seemed to take a genuine interest in any of them besides a respect and cordiality, anything beyond he's sure even their father would know not of, but if such things Tygra ever were guilty of remained as visible to anyone as Tygra at the crack of his whip.

But Lion-O has his doubts about Tygra having any kind of "love affair" with anything but military tactics and weapons work.

The redheaded prince decides he's overreacting, so Cheetara was cold and so she spoke to Tygra occasionally it wasn't anywhere near the way she fervently encouraged and protected him, reassured him with a smile and eagerness that told him everything he needed to know.

Cheetara liked him, not Tygra that he is sure of. No one took such an interest in another cat unless they liked them, at least he thinks so.

And Tygra has no interest in her that he can see, he's positive Tygra wouldn't be so sullen if he were, no, the Tygra he knows would be full of peacock-like swaggering around the cheetah. He doesn't seem to treat Cheetara with anyone more attention than anyone else or notice or care for anything but embarrassing Lion-o, the usual.

Cheetara for some strange reason has not caught Tygra's eye and he has to wonder if Tygra is insane.

Obviously no love could compete with Tygra's greatest love, making Lion-O feel like a useless cub.

And Tygra constantly goading and scolding him when he wasn't sulking about was getting old and wearing on Lion-o's spirit and a new bitterness was growing to match Tygra's, a need to best the tiger more persistent than ever before.

And it prods at him even as sleep begins to cloud his mind.

* * *

><p>It isn't more than a few minutes later Tygra awakens with a start, spots dance in his vision and he's found himself sprawled on the ground from toppling over.<p>

A strange weight is pressing into his side and behind him and of all the things he could think of pressing into him Cheetara is far down the list. But she lies there draping him like a blanket, her small hands fisting at his armor in sleep.

For a moment he just stares trying his best to slow his breathing fearing even that may jostle her awake and have her gone too soon and probably making sure the next time to just brave the chill rather than risk being tangled with him once more.

There's a flash of light and a crackle of sound and the rain has returned bringing with it a nasty icy wind. The mushroom grove they lie under providing a bare minimum of assistance to combat the spray of rain floating on the wind.

The cleric's whole body tightens when a heavy gust passes over them and she's trembling with every strand of fur standing high attempting to ward off the cold, but cheetahs are not known for having the type of pelts for anything but the mildest weather. She's gripping him with claws that easily sink into his more vulnerable torso after every howl of wind and pulling her whole body into a ball tight against him to absorb the warmth he offers.

The cleric is freezing and she'd likely be ill in the morning without additional warmth.

He quiets every hiss as her claws dig at him, he'd suffer them all night to keep her a bit more comfortable but he has a better idea that will be a bit more painless.

Cheetara moans, her eyes cracking into corralled slits but it is cloudy and lacks awareness so he continues to carefully shift her onto her side until she lies in the dry grass in front of him nearer the fire. As he'd hoped the tall stand of her fur relaxes in the wash of firelight as those carnation-colored eyes curtain under the fall of her long black lashes.

He stretches and yawns before settling sprawled on his side behind her shielding her from the bite of the wind at her back, a gap purposefully left between them to avoid awkward awakenings.

Tygra watches the long curve of her spine and a single brownish-black spot disappear and reappear at the nape of her neck when each tousle of the wind through her silken hair exposes it. He closes his eyes only to open them when her scent assaults his nose and she's curled closed to him and _purring _and it's a beautiful thing he wants to hear over and over.

She has rolled over towards him sealing herself against the body of warmth she preferred, close enough to hold, to nuzzle, to lick.

Such thoughts were for mates and Cheetara despite her proximity and position is not his own to do so and he needs her further away to make it easier on him.

As soon as he moves backwards even an inch, she rolls forward wriggling tight to him once more and he's all but biting the inside of his cheek fighting a small smile of pride at her need to be close to him, if only in sleep he'd gladly accept.

Well, he supposes perhaps she had a better idea for keeping warm all along and he can't argue.

* * *

><p>Reviews are much appreciated! Thank you for reading.<p> 


	8. A Moment of

**A Moment of...**

_takes place between episode Berbils_

Cheetara first notices upon stirring the quiet of the company and the stillness of the trees. It takes a few minutes to clear the blur of her vision, her eyes feel large and heavy and she isn't ready to wake but must.

The cheetah notices immediately the wave of warmth is coming from the prone body next to her, so close her coat seems to fuse with her gold abruptly shifting to orange. Tygra is still sleeping sprawled long and lazily on his side in a heavy but quiet slumber in complete contrast to how she had found him last night.

She herself had slept soundly as well and she knows it's much to do with Tygra sandwiched tight against her and she has no wish to rise even as she feels heat flush her ears and chest, her heart knocking against the wall of his armor. It's intimate and perhaps months ago deemed reprehensible.

Clerics and unmarried princes did not snuggle, and definitely didn't nuzzle, the last thing she wanted would be to sully Tygra's virtue, at least by thunderian law anyway.

She moves carefully withdrawing from the invisible blanket of body heat Tygra provided, one long leg coming clear over him finding it easier to maneuver herself over him than rolling round and trying to get clear.

Cheetara is soundless but the prince snaps awake regardless and before Cheetara knows it the wind is knocked from her lungs and she's on her back both hands affectively trapped above her.

Tygra's eyes, an orange flame in his fury, flicker brown when he spots his "attacker".

Cheetara can breathe again, his greater weight nearly crushing her eases off her ribcage as he sighs in relief.

"Sorry, I thought you were-"

He doesn't finish, simply trailing off, he looks a bit embarrassed at his reaction, her tiny white wrists are faintly red and even redder round punctures where his claws had faintly bit into her.

She turns each hand over; besides a very small ache in her left wrist it would seem Tygra hadn't done any lasting damage. "I'm alright."

Tygra's peace offering is an outstretched hand that she takes coming to her feet. The easy pull is one of momentum shifting and she comes up too fast, nearly crashing into him, her mouth level with his jaw.

Cheetara her nose brushes the line of his jaw as she regains her feet that have never been so clumsy.

His hands have instinctively taken her spotted arms to prevent the cleric from falling backwards and she rights herself he still has her a beat longer than necessary, his hands slipping away smoothly.

She looks surer in her stance now but there's frailty to her that's gotten worse in the last few days, shadowing her large rose-colored eyes and if he didn't know any better he'd say she was looking a bit thinner, her skin pulling tighter to her already thin frame.

Food was getting harder to come by as they traveled, even taking the day to hunt and scavenge produced little more than fruit and questionable vegetation, and the bread had run out as well. Scarcely was their crew lucky enough to find a supply town or merchant.

Or unlucky.

They'd learned fairly quickly their noses would tell them what shifty merchants would not and it was soon agreed that meats, cheeses and fruits often looked deceptively delicious but much later their stomachs told a different tale of nutrients long spoiled, only their scent uncovering poor methods of preservation.

Their last decent meal he'd guess weeks ago.

He was faring fine under the circumstances, a bit of weight loss only obvious in the way his silver wrist band no longer hugged snug around him.

His brother and their general were much the same way, very little weight lost and the kits seemed to be doing fine as well considering it was really an unspoken agreement of the entire team to keep the smallest fed first.

With Cheetara often soft enough to give the bottomless cubs some of her own he watches their cleric most nights to make sure the kits don't con her of her meal as well, it isn't his job to mother her but he secretly notes her appetite anyway.

But she's still looking in the last week thinner than he'd ever seen her and it's happening quickly, her hourglass shape pinched even tighter making her hip bones look like knife points and she's easily lost more weight than the three of them combined, he'd guess a good 12 pounds.

"Feeling okay?"

He isn't sure if this is the right opening, asking if she's ill or worse informing her of her lost weight may be even more wrong approaches for obvious reasons.

Spots dance behind her eyes and Cheetara is quick to check her body into stilling so the ground stops spinning. But Tygra does not miss the disjointed step.

"Of course." The cleric allows a tiny smile to touch her lips as she meets his eyes and she's all business again, straight shouldered and tall. "I believe, Prince Tygra, you're fretting unnecessarily over me. I'm not made of glass you know."

It's playful and teasing and familiar but her use of his title brings with it a kind of disconnection, a reminder of the wall their duties formed but he manages a grin anyway.

"Definitely not."

Satisfied with his response they both finally note the large shadow above them.

A shelter. Someone had built them a shelter in the middle of the night.

* * *

><p>Her lungs burn after the battle and she's winded. Cheetara can't remember the last time she felt winded after a run and her legs feel cold.<p>

The spots are back and she's still pulling in air through her nose in rapid inhales noting the edges of her vision are black.

Lion-O's grin fades seeing the cleric's eyes slip shut next to him, she looks incredibly tired and pale.

Within earshot the twins and berbils are bounding for the tank in cries of victory leaving him to focus on the out of sorts cleric.

"Cheetara? You okay?" he wonders coming to her side.

Tygra's own attention is caught and he stoops to allow the robear cub down from his arms. The little one rolls away with a grateful whirring noise.

Cheetara nods resolutely at her king as she sucks in more breath. "I'm fine Lion-O, just a bit winded."

She attempts to straighten but her legs refuse and she buckles and when her claws reach out to catch herself a large hand locks her forearm in its grip stabilizing her.

"You're not," Tygra argues once he has her upright. "You've seem a bit off for days."

Lion-O can't help shooting Tygra a questioning look that his brother doesn't notice, he's too busy looking concerned at the cleric wrapped in his arms helping her keep her feet.

Odd.

What would Tygra know about Cheetara seeming off? They'd only known the cleric for months, hardly long enough to find anything she did habitual or not.

But Tygra's expression is what digs at him, he's never seen him look that way. Really the tiger only had a handful of expressions Lion-O was used to seeing with the incredibly familiar ones being smug, bossy, bossy-smug and irritable.

Tygra's expression is…kind. Concerned.

Lion-O finds it's a strange look for him and he's even disturbed by it, further disturbed by the fact it's directed at Cheetara.

"Tygra," Cheetara warns in an attempt to stop his pressing but it's a soft, whispered thing. She's still holding onto Tygra's broad shoulders for support, his brother draws the cleric in closer perhaps attempting to stabilize her swaying movement but he holds her in a way that seems intimate, his hands securing the sides of her ribcage and she doesn't seem to mind either.

"Again with the fretting," Cheetara says, her voice not its usual quality of confidence and serenity but tinged with amusement.

And perhaps…demure.

He knows he isn't wrong about that part because of their own will her cream-colored ears shift backwards in loud declaration of her placidity.

"Good thing too, you can barely keep your feet."

Cheetara looks almost offended and the tiger and lion watch her steel herself, her jaw tightening in a cutely defiant way that Lion-O is completely caught off-guard by, how breathtaking she is and stunned that such an expression would ever grace her face.

He's watched her become vulnerable, shy and proud within the span of a few minutes, a different cat entirely to the measured cleric he was used to Tygra seeming to orchestrate those changes and he himself doesn't seem surprised in fact he's as comfortable with her as with his strange energy pistol, easily adjusting to out of the norm factors as if they were everyday happenings.

"I'm—

"Yes, I know," Tygra interrupts Cheetara dryly, "You're fine."

Lion-O would guess he'd missed their conversation as they are moving off towards the village Cheetara without the support of Tygra momentarily. They still aren't more than a few feet apart, side by side ignorant of abandoning their king.

It isn't the first time and he _had_ guessed in the beginning of their journey the easy companionship based on a mutual sense of discipline and peer group more than friendship.

But like everything else he notes them doing he's questioning this too.

Lion-O jogs ahead to meet them.

"We should have the berbils check you out, make sure it's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix, I'm sure someone could get you right as rain again," Lion-O suggested.

Cheetara nods in approval of his idea but Tygra doesn't even seem to care to listen, he wordlessly picks up the clerics hand placing it palm to palm with his own examining each finger without bothering to explain.

He seems to find what he's looking for applying a bit of pressure to the bed of her claws the action causing them to unsheathe fully.

"Blood pallor, pretty severe too, it's a wonder you're even standing," Tygra remarks.

"Blood pallor?" Lion-O asks.

Tygra catches his hands slipping up the sides of her face, her pale, delicate face, cupping her jaw before he has conscious thought of it. She's cold and the pulse of her throat is hard to find but she remains still, her neck and the side of her face trustily resting in his claws. He had been prepared for her to resist but she allows his exam without any protest and though she's cold touching her is still beyond pleasant she is softer than he'd imagined and the span of her neck feels as delicate as the shell of an egg.

"She hasn't been eating the best and it's catching up with her," Tygra explains.

His tone seems to suggest Lion-O is a particularly simple child to which Lion-O immediately crosses his arms and retorts, "we all haven't been eating well you know. That's your best guess?"

Tygra turns him full attention to his brother to stare hard Lion-O's direction to which Lion-O simply raises an eyebrow coolly.

His brother is clearly not as clever as he would like to believe. Tygra's answer is definitely not an ingenious one, a simple excuse to shamelessly paw the cleric really.

"You should sit a while it'll help a bit with the shakes and dizziness," Tygra suggests. "His Majesty can take you someplace to rest and relax."

Cheetara makes a murmur that sounds agreeable and Lion-O is surprised when Tygra unwraps her arms around him to place neatly onto the top of Lion-O's left shoulder.

"Think you can handle that little brother?"

Before Lion-O can answer the tiger is gone over the hill they came and disappearing into the grove of mushrooms, he can't wonder too much on it as Cheetara's close proximity makes concentration hard.

His mind goes a bit fuzzy with her scent surrounding him.

She give him a kind, apologetic smile that he meets with one of his own, a more awkward, silly grin he can't seem to hold back.

...

It's hours later and Tygra has still not arrived back at the Robear village.

"Tygra! Tygra!"

It's both deep dark and quiet in the middle of the mushroom grove and he still hasn't a clue to where his brother was in the clusters of foliage and now he can't even begin to guess as he's combed through most of the area by now and heads into the woods just on the other side.

"Tygra!"

His calls are only met with the rustle of a blackberry patch and a buck that springs past him.

Right after comes a larger rustle and from above him drops Tygra landing smoothly behind him in a crouch.

He glowers, his claws sheathing from the impressive hollows they'd made in the dirt.

"Just checking on you, you disappeared and she wanted to make sure you were okay..." Lion-O explains feeling uncomfortable with the way Tygra remains quiet.

"So you'll be playing the part of the cleric for the evening?" Tygra supplies. He grins wryly, "your stealth needs work. You're terrible at this."

Ignoring the poke Lion-O announces, "thought I'd help you too, with whatever you're up to."

Tygra yawns. "Don't need it, thanks."

Definitely an expected response but still Lion-O isn't sure where to go next.

"Something you want little brother? Now that you've scared Cheetara's meal away?"

The accusation immediately causes guilt to rise in Lion-O's chest. The buck was long gone by now and with it any chances of a good meal for Cheetara and any of them really.

He feels foolish and even more so as Tygra stands still frowning at him as he picks away twigs in the ridges of his armor.

"So you were serious."

Tygra is still more interested in picking away at twigs in his fur. "About?"

"I still hardly think food is her problem, we've all eaten less and I've never noticed feeling anything like Cheetara does, besides she's a cleric, the best of Thundera, I'm sure something so simple wouldn't have her nearly off her feet when we're still standing."

Tygra stops and stares with his full attention on his little brother but he doesn't utter a word until he's turning and walking the other direction deeper into actual woods and trees.

Lion-O follows unsure why they are even moving still deeper into the woods.

"Really?" Tygra dryly responds.

"She'd hardly be this sick if lack of food were the problem."

Tygra still doesn't answer back he has a deeper interest in scenting something.

Lion-O does the same curious as to what has Tygra's attention only smelling trees and assorted berries and a rabbit that passed by days ago.

They reach a patch of trees with high branches that web and look rather spongy, the trees themselves wide based and covered in prickled bark.

Tygra pauses at the one with the largest trunk and most spiny bark.

Lion-O immediately recalls one just like it in the memorial grounds of Thundera, a xiopolobre, more commonly called a common scarlet crier due to rain fall causing its bark to soften and leak red sap and any cub foolish enough to climb one bloody pawed and teary eyed for their trouble.

"Perfect," he says simply before unsheathing his claws and digging them into the cutting lumber, his face twists into a grimace when the barbs of the trunk met his palms but hoists himself up with the help of his clawed feet digging into the trunk as well.

"What are you doing?"

Tygra only grunts continuing to climb as spines bite into the calloused flesh of his palms, he pushes himself up and over a sturdy enough looking branch where the trunk becomes smooth and soft under his claws. He begins rending the trunk with steady rakes of his claws, the bark easily yielding, before adjusting his balance and grabbing a knife from his holstered hip cutting a long slit into the soft middle of the tree, it spills forth a thick brownish-red fluid that Tygra catches into his waterskin. Once the fluid slows to a trickle he secures the top before leaping down.

"Come on," Tygra says.

Lion-O follows staring at the strange goo we knows is enclosed in the container. "What in Thundera is _that_?"

"_Naligouche, _at least that's what the clerics call it, not really sure if that's an official term," Tygra answers.

"And what does it have to do with Cheetara?"

Tygra side-eyes the lion with a look that questions if Lion-O knows anything at all.

"Didn't you pay any attention at all in your studies when Clans and Customs were covered?" Tygra raised a brow and shakes his head in exasperation, "no, don't suppose you would have since it didn't really touch on your wonderful world of tech."

"I'd say it's more yours than mine, I don't think I've seen you without that '_thing_'" Lion-O spat gesturing to the energy pistol his brother had holstered. "At your side since all this started."

Tygra shrugs again not bothering to grow defensive, his focus seems elsewhere. "Comes in handy, sometimes better than a whip or a sword, discarding anything useful is foolish. But to answer your question I don't suppose you've ever wondered about cheetahs, how they run as fast as they do."

Lion-O shrugs at a lost to if there was even a point to Tygra's questions, "can't say I have really, in fact I can't say I've seen another cat like her in Thundera at all."

No cat is like Cheetara.

Tygra has to stop himself from adding this simple fact, but he knows what Lion-O means, cheetahs were as likely to be spotted in Thundera as tigers.

Not at all.

"Cheetahs have bigger lungs than any of the clans and bigger hearts for more air, their bones are lighter too, no fat stores anywhere it'd slow them down. Running at high speeds all the time without certain foods, like meat available shuts them down. That shut down is called blood pallor."

"So what does the goo have to do with anything?" Lion-O wonders already guessing.

"Clerics eat at least three times a day and with every meal they offer _naligouche_, a preventative and treatment for blood pallor, their super food. A cat can go long months without meat eating it."

Lion-O wrinkles his nose in disgust at the idea of the sap being eaten willingly, its scent is strange and makes the prince's stomach turn.

"That's disgusting."

Tygra shrugs, "No it's survival. When do you suppose what the last time the palace went without meat?"

Lion-O thinks to remind his brother Thundera is long gone and of its people only their company remains, hence why they were now nosing around in the woods in the first place instead of asking a healer, when Tygra rolls his eyes at Lion-O's blank look.

"I meant then at the palace, when was the last time you could remember we'd gone without meat on our bellies?"

Lion-O thinks hard for a moment before being sure of his answer. "Never that I know of. What does that have to do with anything?"

"There's a reason the lizards always showed up in the market square when they'd manage to enter the city. Our mounts, chickens and cattle pinched and picked at every time those scavengers came around, we've had a meat shortage for decades, not much notice from anyone since the clerics are the first to go without."

Lion-O feels a sense of guilt and sadness at the idea of clerics going without the simplest comforts they should be afforded, Cheetara should be afforded.

"Can't say I understand why. The luxuries of good food should at least be given to the clerics above ourselves, surely father knew that."

"Jaga's clerisy served us, you especially," Tygra notes with a twinge of disdain, "father, myself and our kingdom above themselves, their meat shares given to the people, they're grateful for any meal and any way to give. So try not to pity her too much, she would have had something much better if you hadn't come stomping through the woods screaming."

If the bristle of orange fur on the back of Tygra's neck is any indication Lion-O would say Tygra is irritated, unnaturally so. It was only one spoiled hunt and they have still found something suitable.

He recalls the gentle attentive way Tygra had seen to their cleric and the way they'd easily spoken, like old friends, no, no that's not quite right either because understand all of the louder signals Tygra's almost hesitant, unsure.

Lion-O suddenly understands Tygra's mood, he'd _wanted_ to give Cheetara something better than her usual meal, something that would show of his effort and thoughtfulness. Something that would tell of affection as he powerfully carried in the captured buck.

It hits Lion-O hard and sudden.

Tygra _liked _the cleric!

_Really_ liked the cleric.

Lion-O is quiet as Tygra moves past him, glinting blue eyes narrowed at his brother's back as he crosses his arms.

It wasn't fair. Lion-O had liked her first. Had wanted her far longer than Tygra had and their connection, how much she cared for him refreshing and beautiful after long being met with so much ridicule.

Tygra just had to have everything, ridiculous talent, charm, by Thundera standards Tygra was perfect. Far more than Lion-O.

Lion-O feels his heart sink before his teeth grit.

No, he refused to let Tygra have this.

Not her too.

Lion-O stares fighting not to hit Tygra, suddenly angry, furious even.

But Tygra must sense him because he turns, "you gonna stand there staring at me all night or what?"

Schooling his expression to normalcy takes a moment but Lion-O follows after his brother both eager to see to the cleric.


	9. Hearts and Minds

**Hearts and Minds**

Cheetara's spent most of the day looking out at the bright sun in the center of the Elephant's village. It's a day warmer than the previous one, and with Lion-O spending much needed time with the prophet Anet she's not sure what to do with herself.

She watches Panthro pass with what was left of the Elephants harvest strapped to the great cat's back in a woven basket. She would have been more than happy to help but at her first attempt to assist the General had insisted she needn't bother with heavy lifting.

Cheetara wonders if there is now doubt in her abilities due to her short two day bout of blood pallor. Even after her conversation with Tygra back in the Berbil Village.

* * *

><p>She felt more than fine just the next morning after rest and a full belly of warm <em>naligouche<em> she'd felt as energized as the wily twins but Tygra insisted she take another day of rest and when she'd dismissed his concerns a strange change of plans occurs only another hour later. When she noted not a single cat moving to prepare for departure she questions her king and Lion-O announces another day of rest for the company with the Berbils. She had shifted suspicious eyes to both princes, Tygra looking on at her dispassionately but Lion-O doesn't seem comfortable meeting her eyes as he suggests she rest some more.

Cheetara was sure Tygra is to be thanked for her new 'helpless she-cat' status, everyone had been suddenly very helpful the whole afternoon.

Cheetara had had no doubt Tygra had much to do with this change of plans, ensuring she take rest against her assurances she was fine.

She is off to find Tygra who disappears faster than the kits as soon as Lion-O is finished speaking.

The cheetah tries first to follow the striped cats feet in the lush green grass and its easy enough to find his, he has larger feet than Lion-O as well as broader, but not nearly as broad as the Generals but they are indefinitely lighter footfalls than the other two that get fainter and fainter before disappearing all together in the shorter grasses.

She'd be lost but for the breeze that carries him to her.

She can still smell him, all sandalwood and earth and something like pine and something that's strictly Tygra she can't quite put a name to, and it's soothing and alluring but she doesn't even want to think about him that way right now.

Cheetara springs up the Berbil's lookout tower, her claws clanking and clicking on the steel steps and Tygra turns as she rounds the spiraling step into the archway of the tower's center. It's not much more than a large round room with a metal floor and a blinking rows of buttons on some console just under the window.

"I'm fine Tygra," Cheetara starts.

Tygra simply blinks at her and it makes her even more determined to have this conversation with him.

"We should be moving on, not catering to my momentary fatigue as though it is a bout of tailrot," Cheetara explains. She comes nearly flush with the striped prince and she doesn't miss the way he eased backwards in her scolding, caught off-guard by it. "We can't waste another day. You needn't and shouldn't have suggested such a thing to Lion-O."

For his credit Tygra doesn't do much more in the way of retreat finding himself cornered, it's obvious his attempt shift from defense to offense when he folds both arms and raises a brow. "And what makes you think Lion-O's idea was mine? The kid makes his own decisions that have nothing to do with me."

"I know you Tygra, no other cat here seemed to think I needed another day before you suggested it," she replies softly knowing her words have become tender rather than the firm, no nonsense way she wanted.

She doesn't want to wound him or make him believe she didn't care for his efforts but she has a job to do and he must allow her to do it.

"Tygra, we need those stones and in finding them time is of the essence. I'm a cleric a simple case of blood pallor is trivial and as I've said I'm well enough. I've rested as long as was needed and must get back to my duties. Our king depends on us to—

"You mean our king depends on you," Tygra finishes nearly spitting. "You can't be of any help to him always holding his paw you know, especially passing out in the process."

"I was fatigued not gravely injured, unless there is a sword through me I'm not aware of," Cheetara adds.

"That's my point you just," he pauses as if questioning his sense in uttering his next words. He braves on at her waiting expression, "You wouldn't even know the difference or care, you've been completely careless trying to always help him you're going to get hurt or even-."

"Die?" she finishes with lovely rose-colored eyes that don't hold any fear. "Then I would die in service of my king Tygra. I swore that and meant it the day I entered the clerisy."

He seems to lose all fire, his hardened jaw seeming more morose than angry from the way his eyes refuse to meet hers. She understands his concern and had even known in some way this point would be reached.

Cheetara knows this is her fault, she's sought him out too much since the beginning and over time he too seemed to run into her more sometimes in the oddest places, they'd formed a stilted companionship, a kind they'd nurtured in brief meetings often in secret, some minutes, none more than an hour and she'd only grown more fond.

As a cub, well a kitten really at 9 seasons old she'd first blamed the lack of peers within the clerisy, but that was neither true nor fair as she'd known a leopard and a lynx her age, but neither seemed to be what her heart wanted or had an interest in knowing.

Her first few days she'd felt a silly cub sitting in her quarters after sundown clenching an astrid stem with one torn petal left, the petal greying and falling on the fourteenth day but thankfully the stem never so much as wilts and she gingerly places the relic up her sleeve guard every day after she is given official battle duties.

She then in her first weeks with the clerisy blamed Jaga and her king, the way their roles called for propriety and discretion, it doesn't seem fair for her to stay her distance from the prince and focus on protecting the toddling king.

They'd become unlikely friends with never the opportunity to even have a strong standing on that, days in between sighting, conversations, months, any progress hindered by duties.

"I'm not helpless Tygra, in fact I seem to remember _carelessly _helping you out more than once in the Lizard raids, and blood pallor would have been a more pleasant way to end a hot summer day."

Tygra looks surprised that she recalls it, but he knows he shouldn't be she'd even been gravely injured that day due to his carelessness. He'd charged into the thick mob of cats and lizards upon an unfamiliar mount he'd chosen in his haste, he'd cleared a path to the soldiers with his sword easy enough with speed and element of surprise on his side but his mount had dug her heels in squealing when a cart of melons flew past them like a cannon blast, he'd encouraged the stubborn and frightened creature into the din once more with a kick and with the creature bucking in fright he'd been thrown in the dirt and under her when she'd fallen with all 900 pounds atop him.

He'd been crushed falling atop a dead leopard soldier and beneath the mount and surrounded.

Cheetara had come flying through the chaos like a shooting star out of nowhere, she'd been untouchable until she'd moved to help him before he suffocated and received a stabbing wound to her neck and ribs for her trouble before help had arrived. She'd been badly wounded for his careless charge and he remembers it clear as crystal because he remembers even after his father and their soldiers had gotten the animal up he still couldn't breathe watching another cleric take her from where she's crumpled in the dirt, she'd been unresponsive and covered in blood when they'd hurried her into the clerisy.

There's barely a mark on her white throat and crème colored side now only two years passed, but he doesn't need her scars to remember, he'd never forget the sound of her wheezing breaths.

"That had been my fault," he says mutely. "You were lucky the first time protecting someone from a stupid mistake, how often do you think you'll get lucky again?"

"As long as the Great Sky Cat allows," she answers. "And besides, I should have eight more lives left."

He can't even process her weak attempt to lighten his mood and doesn't look amused and he won't even look at her again. She wants him to understand so badly and accept her destiny, his own, his brother's.

"I wasn't afraid then and I'm not now. Clerics are not afraid of dying Tygra, loss of your life becomes unimportant when you are part of something endless, do you know what clerics fear?"

"Loss of hope. We've lost so much already, our home, our people, leaving hope buried under the stone and wood of Thundera we leave the future of cats there as well. Good things no longer seem endless. When hope dies, so does everything."

Tygra can hear her retreat but he doesn't follow her with his gaze even when she stops to face him again.

"I'll give him my protection and hope at longer as he needs it, he will not stand alone Tygra. He's doing his best."

She leaves him there in the tower nearly stumbling at the stair bottom and she doesn't want to think Tygra is right. she's still a bit under her usual strength.

* * *

><p>She'd been looking for him for most of the afternoon but true to Tygra's nature, if he did not want to be found he wouldn't be and she wonders if he's still avoiding her after yesterday in the tower.<p>

Cheetara wanders, following a delicate spindled vine of violet colored flowers and her breath catches at the sight upon her.

A gap in a rocky crevasse just behind the largest hut opens to a great garden of flowers and ferns and herbs, the music of the village flutes sounds muted in the cocoon of rocked walls around her and somewhere close the cubs are laughing with their pacyderm friends but it quiets as she comes closer the sun fissuring through the red leafed trees paints everything around her in pink.

She's usually very good about not thinking on Thundera but in an instant looking out into the garden she sorely misses her clerisy, her people and here in this place is a near replica of the palace garden she'd seen every day looking out her window and it's impossible not to remember.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

Cheetara lifts her head straight up at the shadow over her. It's just Anet and he's smiling kindly at her.

"I come here every afternoon."

She nods. "Your garden is familiar, like our home's was. In fact it's…" she pauses to double check her vision. Yes. "Identical."

"Is it?" the old elephant asks as though she's just commented on the weather and not the bizarre coincidence.

She comes round the dirt path and yes that's different too as their garden's path was mostly polished stone especially this corner, all the perimeter was smooth polished stone but every tree, every flower, every bush is where it should be.

"Except the trees you have, the red ones, they're different."

Anet nods following her through her wanderings at an easy lumbering place. "They are a favorite of mine."

The cheetah's attention is riveted to an apple tree and her wondering awe seems to shift into something else, musing that doesn't seem pleasant.

"We have day astrids as well."

An odd thing to comment on, of all the flowers... "What?"

"Day astrids," the elephant repeats just as sedately. "You're fond of them."

Cheetara blinks. "How did you know that?"

"Be they cat or elephant, I've never known a female that was not fond of them. They are beautiful and I've known them to come in handy a time or two." He gestures past himself with his walking stick. "Please help yourself to anything for your company's journey, not just the astrids."

With a gentle knock of his stick against an overhanging vine floats several white astrids to the ground.

Cheetara smiles her feet invisible under the mound of flowers, "that's very kind of you Anet but we needn't take your entire supply."

"Need is a strange thing isn't it? How can anyone know what they need before they are aware they will ever be in need of it? Can we call it need before that time? Or is it simply for want?"

She supposes it is as valid a question as any.

"An anticipation? A likelihood? A probability?" Cheetara guesses, unsure of the elephant's ramblings.

"And when probability fails some things may never find a use. Something needed is never without use, so it is still a want. And there truly is only one thing we can always want and always need but never not need." Anet notes plucking up fruit with his trunk that hangs above his brow. He simply swallows the orange whole.

She thinks she should have known she couldn't win with a wise if often forgetful elephant.

"Then I don't think I would know," she admits kneeling down in her astrids. "What truly makes a want and not a need then?"

"You know the answer, so perhaps you should share it."

Cheetara quickly decides the elephant is worse than Jaga with his musings and riddles.

"Share it with who?" she calls back because the elephant is already walking away.

"I would suggest your fruit giver. And do not forget to recheck your leaves for frosting tomorrow."

Cheetara is even more confused than ever and she barely hears his last nonsensical words.

Oh well.

"I'm guessing whiskered milkweed?"

Cheetara notes a pair of stark white feet and Tygra's standing there watching her with a small sack of cloth over his shoulder.

The cleric huffed out a breath of air clearing stray strands and leaves from her hair, she probably looks as though she has rolled and frolicked around in the mess, which would explain Tygra's comment.

"Anet suggested we help ourselves to their herbs and fruits, anything we need," she explains.

The answer seems to satisfy Tygra because he kneels next to her opening his bag. "Fruit?"

Cheetara accepts an orange without complaint but doesn't peel. Looking from her fruit to Tygra who seems unsure if he should be leaving, he finally stands.

"Wait. Sit, please."

He does as she requests and his face takes on a pink glow just like her own under the shade of the red-leaved trees.

"Yesterday I didn't finish, what I wanted to say before," she starts.

Obviously this is the wrong way to start as Tygra already seems to want to be anywhere else. "You remember how else you wanted to remind me to stop interfering with your duties?"

"No," she says. "I meant what I said before but I didn't get a chance to say something else that may be long overdue, something that can't wait anymore."

His eyes steadily rise in attentiveness and it's still all wrong he looks as jumpy as she feels. She finds she's suddenly anxious, of his words, his reaction.

"I thought the difficult part of this was going to be being Lion-O's cleric," she confesses, "but it's no different than what I've always done, instead the hard part is something that should be infinitely more simple."

Steeling herself she scoots closer until her knees are touching the tiger's thigh and though still wearing an expression of extreme caution the tiger is still stationary both sitting in a pile of astrids under the shade in perfect seclusion.

Tygra isn't sure what the cheetah wants to say but something about her anxious expression is worrisome and though the way her teeth begin to nip at her bottom lip is infinitely attractive he's not sure he wants to know why she's doing it.

This talk isn't working and she has a better plan.

She's not sure where her courage comes from but she's decided she's going to show him instead.

A blaring buzzing noise rings her ears and by the way Tygra winces she's sure he hears it too.

"What _is _that?" she groans.

"Don't know but I'm guessing trouble, come on," Tygra calls.

They are up in a flash, fruits, flowers and confessions forgotten.


End file.
